


Kings of Nowhere

by landsail0r



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Complete, Fluff, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Romance, Trans, but it's all good in the end!, okay so it gets a little less fluffy as it goes on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-12 07:05:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4469813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/landsail0r/pseuds/landsail0r
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mostly-fluff piece featuring all of the happy Krem/Dorian you could ask for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sunlight and Steel

The hot sun was beating down on the dusty training yard, and the din of steel on steel filled the summer air. Krem stood just outside the lists and watched the sparring warriors on the other side of the wooden barrier. He shifted inside his armor and took a few exaggeratedly deep breaths, forcing air past the tight garments he wore beneath the plate. 

The pair inside the ring shook hands and clanked towards the exits, and Krem locked the visor on his helmet into place before picking up the sword and shield lying on the ground beside him. It wasn’t his first choice of weapons by a long shot, but when he’d challenged Cassandra to spar she’d been the one to pick. The sword was a dull one rounded off for practice, and the balance was just far enough off to make him uneasy. He supposed there was no reason to dwell on distractions, though, so he entered the lists.

Cassandra was already in the center. She tucked her sword under her arm to shake his hand before backing off slightly and falling into guard. He had watched her fight before, and so he moved cautiously. She was not as aggressive as the Iron Bull was, but she was cautious, clean, and incredibly efficient, which in many ways made her a more challenging opponent. 

They circled slowly, Krem reluctant to make the first move against an opponent who was obviously more competent. He tried to look for a tell in her movements, but her first strike came out of nowhere and he quickly fell backwards, raising his shield to drive the blow aside. They exchanged blows punctuated by periods of circling and strategizing. She landed one, two, and then three blows against the weak parts of his armor, and Krem began to grow frustrated. On impulse he lashed out aggressively, pushing her backwards, and he thought he read surprise in her movements for at least a second. She defended herself before pushing back, and they fought in the middle of the ring for a brief while before Krem saw an opening and swept her arms aside with his shield, stepping forward and throwing her to the ground. She grabbed his armor and pulled him down too, and somehow he ended up lying on his back with the tip of her sword at his throat. 

Cassandra lifted the visor of her helmet. She was grinning slightly, obviously pleased with herself, and he chuckled. The sound was lost inside his helmet. Cassandra offered him a hand and he stood back up, feeling a little light-headed. They bowed and shook hands in the ring, and Krem left the ring to allow in the next challenger. Someone clapped him on the back on his way out, and he raised a hand in acknowledgement, but he was feeling shaky and strange. He put the sword down and pulled his arms out of the straps on the shield before fumbling with the catch on his helmet; it took him several seconds to raise the visor, and he gulped down air. He was feeling definitively faint now, and he looked around to see if anyone was watching, but they all seemed to be focused on the next round of sparring. He stumbled towards the nearest door and fell against the wall just inside, too dizzy to close the door. He knew he had to stop binding quickly or risk falling unconscious, but there were several layers of cloth and steel in his way, and his fingers were clumsy.

He had just managed to pull off the helmet when someone came in through the open door. He squinted as the person knelt beside him, realizing after a moment that it was the Tevinter mage he’d seen about a few times. “Are you all right?” the man asked with obvious concern in his voice.

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine,” Krem said, attempting to wave his arm dismissively but only managing to make it flop like a fish.

“Right.” He laughed humorlessly. “What do you need? Water?”

“I need to get this armor off.”

The mage grinned. “That glad to see me?”

If Krem hadn’t already been flushed, his face would have turned red. “Listen—“

“I’m sorry. Tell me what you need me to do.” The man helped Krem to lay down flat on the floor—it wasn’t the most convenient position for removing armor, but it made Krem feel slightly better. He kept asking Krem questions about the logistics of removing the armor, to the point where Krem wondered if he actually needed all the help or if he was just trying to keep Krem awake. Even rushing, it took several minutes to get Krem down to his overshirt and trousers. Krem tried to sit up blearily, but the mage pushed him back down.

“I need to do something,” Krem protested, and the man raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll go get you some water.”

Krem managed to get the binding undone while he was gone, and was leaning up against the wall when the mage got back. He took several long gulps of water before leaning back, trying to breathe as deeply as possible.

They were silent for a minute before the mage said quietly, “I don’t know much, but I know it’s not wise to bind when you’re fighting.”

Krem shook his head. “I don’t usually, but I ended up getting challenged by Cassandra and I didn’t have time to change out in private. The folks in my company don’t make a fuss about it, but I didn’t want to do it in public, you know.”

The mage nodded. “I’m glad you’re all right.”

Krem laughed. “Me too. It was a damn stupid mistake. I thought I could get away with it.”

“Plenty of men have passed out fighting in the heat without the added joy of having their lungs crushed.” He sat down across from Krem, and Krem self-consciously folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced properly. I’m Dorian.”

“Krem. I’ve heard people speak of you before. You don’t spend much time out in the light and fresh air, do you?”

“Not when I can help it.” Dorian laughed again. “Too much heat and dust. It brought you down quickly enough—think what it would do to a scrawny bookworm like me.”

Krem looked over at him in skepticism. “You sell yourself short.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow. “Do I now? Is that a compliment?”

Krem folded his arms tighter. “Maybe it is.” It came out rather more petulant that he intended. 

Dorian grinned and stood. “I’m going to track down a healer to take a look at you, make sure everything is all right.” He scoffed when Krem rolled his eyes. “Don’t go wandering off and passing out in a lavatory while I’m gone.”


	2. A Silver Platter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for drinking

That evening Krem sat in the tavern, having finally escaped the clutches of the healers. They had clucked over him for at least two hours, making him lie down indoors and drink water slowly. When he found out what had happened, Iron Bull came in to check up on him, and spent all of 30 seconds genuinely concerned about his well-being before he started to tease and harass Krem about fainting from fear after fighting Cassandra. It took the healers several minutes to persuade him to either quiet down or leave the infirmary.

When they’d finally determined that there was nothing wrong with Krem beyond being overheated and out of breath, they let him go, and he had trudged back to his favorite spot in the tavern. He’d been dreading running into Bull again, who would surely have come up with several new and creative insults, but he wasn’t around. Krem was just considering getting up to get an ale when he heard the scuffing of a chair and turned to see Dorian pulling up a seat next to him.

“Feeling better?” Dorian sat backwards in the chair, folding his arms across the back.

“Completely. It wasn’t anything really.”

“You couldn’t even stand up.”

Krem shrugged. “I’ve been much worse, believe me. Though the way the healers were fussing, you’d think I’d stared death in the eyes.”

“You’re not an insignificant figure here, you know, so I can’t blame them for being worried. The Chargers are a huge asset, and with Iron Bull heading off with the Inquisitor so often, you’re their de facto leader. At the very least, you’re their face in the Inquisition.”

Krem folded his arms awkwardly, uncertain of how to take the praise. From the perspective of an outsider he was probably correct. “I may lead the missions, but it’s Bull who keeps us together.”

Dorian laughed. “That I don’t doubt. If nothing else he’s charismatic.” He brushed his already-perfect hair back with his fingers. “Listen, can I get you a drink?”

“I’m not going to say no to a free drink.” Krem grinned as Dorian went over to the bar.

Dorian passed him a tankard on the way back to his chair, and they sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping beer and never quite catching each others’ eyes. Finally Dorian said, “I saw your fight today. It was impressive.”

“I had my ass handed to me on a silver platter.”

“Yeah, but she bothered to pull out the silver.” He laughed. “In all seriousness, Cassandra is one of the best fighters I’ve ever seen, and you didn’t make it easy for her.”

“I still lost. And knowing Bull I’m never going to hear the end of it. He says the reason I nearly passed out was because I’m scared of Cassandra.”

Dorian snorted. “As well you should be. I’m not sure even Bull could take her in a fight.” He swirled the remainder of his beer around in the tankard. “Did Bull teach you to fight?”

Krem shook his head. “I spent years in the army before I ever found my way to Bull.”

“In Tevinter?”

“Yeah.”

“Even though you…” He gestured vaguely, clearly uncertain of how to tactfully continue.

“Grease some palms, people forget to notice certain things.”

“Ah. Now that makes sense. So how’d you find Bull?”

“Things changed. I ran. He found me.” Krem made a face.

Dorian frowned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s all right. It was a while ago. And joining the Chargers was one of the best things that happened to me. I lived in fear of being found out for so long, I didn’t realize how good it would be to leave all that behind.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. That was a little too heavy for drinking with someone I met earlier today.”

Dorian raised his tankard. “To leaving that shit far behind.” 

 

They traded off buying rounds of drinks until the tavern began to clear out for the night. Escaping the disapproving glance of the bartender, they wandered upstairs and onto the battlements. The moon was mostly full, and a cool breeze ruffled the banners on the towers. They wove their way down the wall, chatting and laughing, until Dorian stopped and raised a hand as if he were gathering attention for a speech. “I have an important question.”

Krem raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“I think I saw you with a girl the other day.”  
“That’s not a question.”

“Are you seeing her… actively?”

“We’ve slept together once or twice. We’re not a couple, if that’s what you’re asking. And I don’t see why it’s particularly your business.”

Dorian paused, obviously gathering his words. “What I’m trying to say is—is it… just girls?”

Krem rolled his eyes. “Ask the damn question you were going to in the first place and stop dancing.”

“Fine.” Dorian adjusted his hair again. “What I am trying to say is that I am drunk and I would like to kiss you very much.”

Krem grinned. “That still wasn’t a question.” He kissed Dorian on the lips, wrapping his arms around Dorian’s waist and pulling him close.


	3. Misunderstandings

The morning sunlight filtered through the high window and fell on Krem’s face. He groaned, turned away, and after a moment pulled the sheets up over his head. Around him the other Chargers began stirring, and he was just resigning himself to the fact that he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder and shook him.

Krem grunted again, more pointedly, but sat up and sleepily glared at Iron Bull.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Bull chuckled. “I hear tell you were drinking with a particular Tevinter last night.”

“Is that a problem?”

Bull shook his head. “Nah. He’s not a bad guy, at least for a Vint.”

Krem rolled his eyes conspicuously. “Did you wake me up just to tease me about it, then?”

“I need you to take some folks down the road about half a day’s march. Some pilgrims were jumped by bandits on their way to Skyhold. Boss says it shouldn’t be much trouble.”

“They always say that.”

“This time I think it’s true. They didn’t kill the pilgrims, just roughed them up a little, and from what I hear they don’t have much in the way of armor. You’re not too hungover to do a little mission like this, are you?”

Krem shrugged. “I’ve had worse. Give me an hour to rustle some people up, and we’ll get on the road.”

Bull grinned. “That’s the spirit. There’ll be horses waiting in the courtyard for you.”

 

He was right; the bandits posed no real trouble, and the Chargers came out of the conflict with barely a scratch. On the ride back the others chatted and laughed amongst themselves, but Krem was having trouble focusing enough to join in. He couldn’t stop turning the events of last night over in his head. He and Dorian had stayed together on the battlements for nearly an hour, kissing and laughing and doing their best to avoid the notice of the guards. Krem felt almost giddy thinking about it, and he was sure that he was grinning foolishly at the road ahead.

About halfway back, though, he had a very unpleasant revelation. Dorian was from Tevinter, and by the way he spoke was probably wealthy. He had doubtless been raised to believe in even stricter rules than Krem had.

Which meant that he almost undoubtedly thought of Krem as a woman.

Krem resisted the urge to bury his face in the mane of his horse. Of course this would happen. Of course he would fall for a man who couldn’t see him for how he was. He felt like punching something, but he wrapped his hands tighter around the reigns and kept his face impassive.

When they made it back to Skyhold, the rest of the Chargers went off to clean their weapons and celebrate their victory, but after taking his armor off he wandered away from the others. Uncertain of where else to go, he walked back up to the battlements, squinting in the bright afternoon sunlight. His frustration had lessened somewhat, but he still felt sour, and the last vestiges of a hangover made the sun unpleasant.

“Krem?”

He turned to see Dorian walking towards him. Perfect.

“I’ve been looking for you on and off since this morning,” Dorian said, leaning casually against the wall next to him.

“I was working,” Krem said, not bothering to hide the anger in his voice.

“I just wanted to say that I had a lovely time last night, and I… is something the matter?”

“Course not.” Krem made a face.

“If I pushed you too far last night, I’m terribly sorry. It was never my intention to do anything you weren’t fully enjoying.”

Krem laughed coldly. “Oh, I enjoyed it well enough.”

“Then what—“

“I’ve met men like you before. Ones who will call me anything I like so long as they can see me as a woman once they get me into bed.” Krem crossed his arms.

Dorian stood there for a moment with his mouth open, then began to laugh. Krem stared at him with surprise that quickly devolved into frustration. “What’s so funny?”

Dorian pursed his lips and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disrespect you. It’s just that… I forget people don’t know.”

“Know what?”  
“I have no interest in women. Not even a little.”

“Oh.” Krem blushed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. I understand why you would be concerned. It’s terrible when someone so firmly believes you to be something other than you are.”

“I really am sorry.”

Dorian sighed. “I didn’t mean you. Are we… are we better now?”

Krem settled against the battlements at Dorian’s side, pausing a moment before taking his hand. “Yeah. I think so.”


	4. I Burn Bright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for sexual content at the end of this chapter. if you skip it, all you'll miss is a joke i've been wanting to make for a while.

They stood there in silence for a while, backs to the wind, watching the spymaster’s ravens circle the tower. Krem eventually excused himself, a little embarrassed at having left the Chargers behind. The barracks were empty when he got there, since they were no doubt already celebrating with drinks, so he sat in silence and cleaned his armor and weapons diligently until it became too dark to see without a light. When he finally walked into the tavern it was loud, smoky, and crowded, and it took him a moment to make out the Chargers gathered around a table on the other side of the room.

He sat just as another round of drinks arrived, and sure enough there was an extra one for him. Dalish grinned as he took it. “Knew you’d be back sooner or later.” 

It was nice to spend time with his friends, but he couldn’t seem to throw himself into it as fully as he usually did. He felt oddly tired, and frequently found himself staring off into space while only half listening to the conversation. After a drink or two he finally gave up on finding his second wind, said goodnight, and walked out of the tavern.

Krem didn’t realize that Bull had followed him out until they were both several steps out into the night. Bull put a hand on his shoulder. “You doing all right? It’s not like you to be the first to bed.”

“I’m fine. Just worn out.”

“If you’re going to meet your new boy toy, you’d best tell me so I can keep the others busy a while.”

Krem snorted. “First off, I’m not. Second off, if I were I’d have the discretion to not do it in the barracks.”

“So you admit you’re into him, then.”

Krem flushed. “Oh, fuck you,” he grumbled.

Bull was not fazed. “Listen. I heard you were making faces the whole ride home, and then you wandered off and left your armor sitting in the barracks. That’s not like you. I wanted to make sure I’m not going to have to kick someone’s ass.”

Krem laughed. “No. It was a misunderstanding. I was being stupid was all.”

“Hmm. Well, make sure it’s fun stupid next time.”

“Will do.”

 

Krem kept an eye open for Dorian over the next few days, but couldn’t seem to find him anywhere. He was too proud to ask after him directly, but he did find excuses to go into the keep more often than he usually did. He began to worry that Dorian was avoiding him intentionally, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe he’d hurt Dorian more than he realized with his snappishness.

On the third day, he was just finishing removing his armor after sparring when a tap on the shoulder made him jump and nearly drop the pauldron he was holding. He scrambled to his feet to see Dorian standing with his arms folded. He looked a little worn, and his usually-perfect hair was rumpled. “Miss me?”

“I thought you were avoiding me.”

“Avoiding you? I was gone. Traveling for the Inquisitor. There were plenty of people who could have told you that.”

Krem made a face. “I… didn’t want to ask.”

“I would think you of all people wouldn’t be afraid to associate yourself with the disreputable Tevinter.”

“It’s not that, it’s just… never mind.” Krem looked away, hoping he wasn’t blushing.

“Well, if you’re not too worried about your reputation to be seen with me, I suggest you meet me in the garden in an hour’s time. I’d tell you come straight to my room, but this place is a maze and I expect you’d get lost trying to find it.” He raised an eyebrow pointedly.

“Oh!” Krem stumbled over his words in surprise. “Yes! Okay… that sounds…”

“Don’t hurt yourself.” Dorian grinned. “An hour.”

Krem nodded, and hurriedly continued removing his armor as Dorian walked back towards the keep.

 

He had just enough time to bathe and put on a fresh shirt before hurrying to the garden. Dorian was sitting on a bench, having also apparently bathed and changed, and he stood when Krem drew near, offering him an arm formally. Krem took it uncertainly, feeling more than a little embarrassed. “Aren’t you worried about what people will say?”

“About me and you? They’re scandalized by our very existence. Might as well take it as far as it will go.”

Krem smiled. “I could get behind that.”  
Dorian’s room was down several branching corridors and up a flight of stairs, and Krem was glad that he hadn’t tried to navigate it himself. It was rather small but richly furnished, with a deep red tapestry hanging above the bed and a window set high into the wall. Dorian closed the door behind them, turned back to Krem with a smile, and pulled him close. His lips hovered an inch from Krem’s as he ran a hand through Krem’s short hair. “You’re very handsome. You know that, right?” he murmured.

Tired of waiting, Krem kissed him.

They tangled around each other, all pull and soft touch. After a few minutes Dorian pushed him backward onto the bed, and Krem started to play with the buckles and clasps of Dorian’s jacket. When he tried to pull the jacket off, however, it got stuck around Dorian’s shoulders, and Krem made a frustrated face. “There’s too many straps! Do you really need all of them?”

“This jacket is very aesthetically pleasing,” Dorian said. He sounded affronted, but there was a sparkle of humor in his eyes.

“That’s great, but if I’m going to be worried about something being ‘aesthetically pleasing’ I’d rather it be you. Preferably naked.”

Dorian tried to free his shoulder and failed, and they both collapsed with laughter. It took a few minutes to get Dorian out of the jacket, and by the end they were both still giggling between kisses. Dorian unbuttoned Krem’s shirt and dropped it off the edge of the bed. He ran a finger along the side of Krem’s ribs, tracing the seam of the binder. “Do you want this….”

“Take it off. This will be far less fun if I can’t breathe.”

Dorian obliged, and they wrapped their bodies together in the light of the dying sun.


	5. Enough

   
Krem hadn’t meant to fall asleep in Dorian’s bed, but Dorian had dozed off in his arms soon after they’d finished and he hadn’t wanted to wake him. When Krem opened his eyes the room was dark, illuminated only by the barest trace of moonlight on the wall above the bed. He sat up in surprise, looking around and trying to guess what time it was, and Dorian let out a sleepy groan. “What?”

“Damn it. I wasn’t planning on falling asleep.”

Dorian smiled. “Well, it was nice. You’re very warm.”

“I hope no one was looking for me.”

“I’m sure the Inquisition will have survived your absence.” Dorian rolled over as if to go back to sleep, then huffed. “I’m hungry.”

Krem laid back down on the bed. “Me too. I didn’t get supper.”

“Let’s go to the kitchen, then. See what we can scrounge up.”

“At ass-o’clock in the morning?”

“We won’t disturb anyone. There might be a few folks up making bread or… something. They sometimes fuss when I come down this late, but there’s always a few bites of something lying around.”

“Are you often up this late, then?”

“When I’m not traveling, I’m studying, for the benefit of the Inquisition and sometimes myself. It’s easy to lose track of the time—what’s that face supposed to mean?”

Krem stopped fake-gagging. “Nothing.” He grinned.

Dorian rolled his eyes dramatically. “Well, it’s not my fault you’re terribly uncultured. Let’s get some food then.”

Krem climbed out of bed and started hunting for his clothes. Once he’d successfully found everything and put it in a pile, he glanced over to see Dorian still lying in bed, grinning. “Don’t go getting dressed on my account.”

“Ugh. I’m hungry.” Krem started turning his binder the right way out, then looked back at Dorian. “Are you serious?”

“About?”

Krem had trouble finding the right words. “About… liking what you see?”  
Dorian swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He wasn’t smiling as widely anymore, but his eyes were gentle. “Krem, you are genuinely handsome, and I’m sure I’m far from the only person who thinks that.”

Krem looked down at his hands, still wrapped around the cloth. “I…” He blinked several times. “Thank you. I sometimes feel as if I’ll never be… enough.”

Standing, Dorian ran his fingers through Krem’s hair. “You are enough. You are more than enough.” He kissed Krem’s forehead, and they stood close for a long moment before Dorian smiled again. “Let’s get something to eat, shall we?”

 

An hour later, Krem finally made his way back to the barracks. It wasn’t light yet, but there was a pale glow on the eastern horizon. He cautiously pushed the door open and crept inside, passing his sleeping comrades on the way to his cot. He was just about to sit down and remove his boots when he caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He spun to see Iron Bull standing barely an arm’s length way, a knife in his hand. Krem threw up his arms in shock, but Iron Bull stepped back immediately and lowered the knife.

“Damn it, Krem!” he hissed. “I heard someone come in through the far door and thought they were come to kill us. Should have known it was you, with all the noise you were making.”

“Sorry.” Krem winced.

Bull sighed. “No harm done, I suppose. Couldn’t you have just stayed the night?”

“I didn’t want to be missing when everyone woke up.”

Bull shook his head. “They all know why you were gone tonight. They’re your friends, Krem. This doesn’t have to be a secret.”

Krem sat down on his cot and sighed. “I know.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Yeah.” Krem grinned.

“Good.” Bull grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “Get some rest. We’re having a hard training day tomorrow, and I expect you to be pulling your weight out there.”

Krem nodded, and Bull walked away. Krem took off his boots and undressed, slipping under the covers just as he heard the first birds. Despite the fact that the bed was hard and the sheets were rough, he fell fast asleep until the sun was above the horizon.


	6. Here and Now

Bull hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said the day would be difficult. He roused them all a bare two hours after Krem fell asleep, and after a quick breakfast the Chargers filed out to the training yard for an hour of warm-ups. They then moved into three hours of formal drilling with several different weapons—though they all had their own preferences, they were expected to be competent with most common weapons. After breaking for lunch, they put on armor and went into an afternoon of sparring, which was more Krem’s style. He understood the value of the drills, but they still grew dull after a while.

By the end of the day Krem was exhausted to the point of shaking, fingers fumbling with the leather straps as he helped someone out of their armor. He was sitting on a stool, sipping water from a wooden cup and trying to work up the energy to walk to the tavern, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Dorian standing there, smirking slightly. “You’ve been working hard.”

“Were you watching?”

“Here and there. There’s a nook where I like to read sometimes, and the window has a view of the training field. I don’t know much about fighting, at least not with weapons, but you seem very skilled.”

“Thanks.” Krem stood up gingerly and took a few wobbly steps before Dorian wrapped an arm around his waist.

“Are you all right?” Dorian asked, seeming genuinely concerned.

Krem nodded. “Just tired. And starving.”

“Sounds like you could use someone to pamper you a little.” Dorian grinned. “Not to brag, but I think of myself as a master of indulgence.”

“As long as there’s food involved.”

“That can be arranged.”

 

Dorian escorted Krem up to his room, sat him down on the bed, and massaged his back and shoulders for a while. When he stopped and began picking at Krem’s shirt gingerly, Krem turned around, questioningly. 

Dorian made a face. “This shirt is disgusting.”

“I was wearing it all day.”

“You need a bath. Come on, there’s one just down the hall.”

Krem groaned. “Food first?”

“I’ll fetch something to eat while you’re bathing. Come on.”

On the way out the door, Dorian grabbed a few things out of a chest of drawers. The hall was empty, but Krem still blushed a little as Dorian took his hand. The bathroom was small, just a large iron tub and a small stool, but there was a tap in the wall and when Dorian turned it on steaming water spilled into the tub.

“Hot water? In the pipes?” Krem was shocked. Wealthy Tevinter households had running water, but he’d never heard of one that had the water already heated.

“That dwarven arcanist, Dagna? She’s done phenomenal things with this old place, and it’s just a pet project.”

Krem nodded, still in awe. After Dorian left, he stripped off his clothes and sunk into the warm water. After several minutes of laying there in bliss, he found a cake of soap and started washing himself. He had just finished rinsing the soap out of his hair when there was a knock at the door, and he flinched and crossed his arms over his chest, but he heard Dorian’s muffled voice from the other side of the heavy door. He climbed out of the bath and grabbed the towel Dorian had left for him, wrapping it around himself before opening the door. 

Dorian was carrying a tray of food, bread and cheese and stew still letting off puffs of steam. Krem grinned and leaned across the tray to kiss him, standing slightly on tiptoe. “Give me a second to get dressed.”

“I’ll be in my room when you’re finished.”

Door closed again, Krem fished the stopper out of the tub before unfolding the clothes Dorian had picked out. They were nothing particularly special in comparison to what Krem had seen Dorian wearing, but the fabric was fine and the craftsmanship spectacular. They were a little too large for him, so he folded up the cuffs of the trousers and rolled up the sleeves of the shirt. Towel in hand, he walked barefoot into the hall and nearly ran into the Inquisitor.

They were clearly surprised to see him, though they regained their composure quickly. Krem was suddenly very aware of his clearly borrowed clothes and wet hair, and he nervously fiddled with the towel.

“Have you seen Dorian?”

“He’s in his room.” Krem winced, realizing that the fact he knew that was more than a little incriminating. “I think.”

The door swung open and Dorian poked his head out. “Krem? The stew’s getting—Ah! Inquisitor! Come in.” He pushed the door wider and the Inquisitor, looking almost as grateful for the excuse to leave the awkward conversation as he felt, hurried over to Dorian. Krem lingered in the hallway, unsure of what to do, but Dorian waved for him to come in.

Krem sat awkwardly on the chair in Dorian’s room as Dorian and the Inquisitor talked. He picked at the bread on the tray, ravenously hungry but not wanting to stuff himself while the Inquisitor was talking about something that was probably important. As soon as the Inquisitor left and closed the door, he grabbed the bowl of stew and started eating it eagerly. Dorian chuckled. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Krem shook his head dismissively, mouth full of stew. 

“Did you have a good bath?” Dorian took a bowl for himself and sat on the edge of the bed.

Krem swallowed. “Yeah. It was incredible.” He ate another spoonful of stew. “These clothes are really nice. I’ve rarely seen linen this fine before. Are they from a tailor in Skyhold?”

“I purchased them from a merchant who came in from Val Royeaux, actually. I wouldn’t have expected your taste in clothes to be so refined—no offense, of course.”

Krem laughed. “It’s not taste in clothes so much as experience. I started off life thinking I was going to be a tailor, before some… unfortunate circumstances landed me in the army. I suppose I shouldn’t complain. If it hadn’t gone that way I’d still be sewing shirts in Tevinter, not second in command of one of the finest mercenary companies in Fereldan.”

Dorian stirred his stew pensively. “Well, for what little it’s worth, I’m rather glad you’re here.”

Krem stood up and walked over to the bed, sitting next to Dorian and resting his head on Dorian’s shoulder. “Yeah. This is pretty good.”


	7. Lessons

Krem spent that night in Dorian’s room, and the following nights as well. He did his best to balance his free time between Dorian and the Chargers, but it felt a little strange to be splitting his life this way. It was a good kind of strange, though, and the other Chargers did not seem to resent him for spending so much time away. Sometimes one of them would catch him smiling for no reason in particular, and when they’d ask he’d always pretend that it was nothing, but everyone knew.

Dorian was warm and kind and soft like firelight. He took Krem as he was, without expecting him to start being someone different, and Krem tried as hardest to do the same for him. Being around Dorian was like being home.

They were lounging around in Dorian’s room one morning they both had off from their responsibilities, and Dorian was curled up with a book while Krem gave his armor a much-needed cleaning. After a long period of silence, Dorian looked up from his book and asked, “Do you have a favorite book, Krem?”

“What?” Krem set down the rag he was using to polish his gauntlets.

“A favorite book. Something from your childhood, or something you like to read over and over. You know.”

Krem bit his lip, and his stomach crumpled a little. “I can’t read. At least not more than it takes to keep a ledger.”

“Oh.” Dorian closed the book on his lap with a quiet thud. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“It’s fine.” Krem shook his head. “I didn’t mention it earlier because I was afraid you’d be ashamed of me.”

Dorian sighed and patted the bed next to him. “Come here.”

Setting aside his work, Krem climbed on to the bed and curled against Dorian. “I’m not ashamed of you,” Dorian said, absently placing a hand on Krem’s thigh. “We come from very different places and so the things we can do are different. You’re a phenomenal warrior and a good and kind man.”

“Thanks.” Krem rested his head on Dorian’s shoulder.

Dorian pulled a small book from a stack on the bedside table and turned it over in his hands, stroking the worn binding. “Would you like to learn how to read?” he asked finally. “I could teach you.”

Krem sat up in surprise. “Really?”

“Of course.”

“That would be wonderful.”

Dorian smiled. “This book isn’t perfect for learning, but it’s the best I have right now. I used to read it as a boy when I was feeling sad or afraid. It was one of the few things I brought with me from Tevinter. You know your letters at least, right?”

Krem nodded. “Enough to work out signs.”

“That will make this easier. Come now, we’ll work together on the first page.”

 

It became a ritual—each night Dorian would sit down with Krem and help him work his way through the book. Sometimes Krem would finish two pages, other times he’d grow frustrated after a few lines and Dorian would close up the book without pushing him further. It was slow going, but he began to recognize words without having to sound them out each time, and he began to reach a point where he could follow the story in bits and pieces. Dorian was extraordinarily patient and kind teacher, even when Krem vehemently cursed out the author of the book and every character in it.

One night, at the end of their lesson, Krem closed the book and looked seriously up at Dorian. “Listen. You’re spending a lot of time and energy teaching me.”

“I enjoy it.”

“That wasn’t my point. I want to give you something back, teach you something I know how to do. I want to teach you how to fight.”

“I can fight, with magic.”

“Someday that might not be good enough. Maybe you’ll need to hide the fact that you’re a mage, or maybe for whatever reason you won’t be able to do it, and you’re going to need a backup plan. Knives and fists, maybe a few things with a sword.”

Dorian nodded slowly. “I think you’re right. There have definitely been times when it would have been to my benefit to know how to block a punch.”

Krem grinned. “See? You teach me, I teach you. Meet me on the training fields at fifth bell tomorrow. I’ll try to go easy on you.”

 

Dorian was as incompetent at fighting as Krem was at reading, at least at first. He was tentative and kept pulling his blows, clearly unaccustomed to using his body to generate physical rather than magical power. Krem did his best not to get frustrated or discouraged, knowing all too well the feeling of being bad at something that came naturally to your teacher. Dorian stuck with it, though, and eventually made it to the point where he could consistently block strikes even when Krem used a training dagger.

They were nearing the end of a particularly grueling session when Dorian raised his arm a little too late and Krem, surprised, did not have time to arrest his movement. The dagger glanced off Dorian’s cheekbone, and though it was dulled it left an angry red scrape. Horrified, Krem stepped back quickly, dropping the dagger and bringing his hands up to his face. “Maker, I’m… I’m so sorry.”

Dorian gingerly brought a hand up to his cheek and wiped away a trickle of bright blood. “It’s fine, it was my mistake.”

Krem shook his head. “I shouldn’t have—This is a training situation, there’s no reason for anyone to get hurt.” He turned away, desperately trying to hold back tears.

Dorian placed a hand on his shoulder. “It was an accident. I’ll have an impressive bruise, nothing more. Shh, it’s okay.”

Krem shook his head, hunching up his shoulders. “It’s just… I don’t want anything bad to happen to the people I love, especially not by my hand.”

Dorian stood very still, and it dawned on Krem what he had accidentally confessed. After a long moment, Dorian asked softly, “Is that how you really feel?”

Flustered, overwhelmed, and crying in earnest, Krem turned back to Dorian and nodded. Dorian smiled, and the expression was soft and hopeful. “I love you too.” He wrapped his arms around Krem, and they stood pressed together in the waning light.


	8. Alliance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for injury and mentions of death

A few days later, Krem was spending an evening with the Chargers for a change. Bull had pulled him aside earlier that day and asked that he join them for drinks that night, and though it hadn’t been an order Krem could tell it was important. When he got to the tavern, though, Bull wasn’t there, and he didn’t arrive until they were on the second round of drinks. When he finally sat down, causing the bottles and tankards to rattle on the table, there was a glint in his eye that Krem hadn’t seen in some time.

“I’ve got a job for us,” he announced. “Or, rather, for you. Inquisitor’s finally got the Qun willing to start negotiating terms of an alliance. Part of the deal is helping carry out a strike on a smuggling operation. Right up our alley, eh?”

Krem grinned. “It’s been too long since we had a good job.”

“Yeah.” Bull banged his fist on the table. “We head out morning after next. So drink up!”

 

The next day was filled with preparations; the Storm Coast was a few days’ ride away, and so they needed provisions and camping gear in addition to their armor and weapons. They were not traveling alone: the Inquisitor was also taking a party along, but their preparations were mostly separate. Part of the terms of the Chargers’ employment was that they handled things on their own terms.

It was nearly dark when Krem realized he hadn’t told Dorian that he would be gone for several days. He slipped away from the courtyard and went up to Dorian’s room, but no one answered the door, and he was not in any of his usual reading nooks. Krem was just walking down the steps from the main hall when he ran into Dorian, who looked harried and was carrying a leather knapsack. He caught Krem by the collar and kissed him distractedly before continuing up the steps, and Krem called after him, “Dorian! Wait. I’m going to be gone on a job starting tomorrow. I wanted to let you know before I went.”

Dorian turned around slowly. “Oh. This isn’t the Inquisitor’s little adventure with the Qun, is it?”

“Yeah. Are you going too?”

Dorian nodded. “Forgive me if I’m not too enthusiastic. I’m always happy to bash a few Venatori heads in, but the Qun wouldn’t be my first pick of allies. But it’s not my decision to make.”

“I get it. I don’t suppose we’ll have too much time together on the road, huh?”

Dorian shook his head. “I ride with the Inquisitor. You might be able to sneak into my tent, though. It’s not exactly a secret that we’re seeing each other.” Krem turned away and started towards the courtyard again, and Dorian called out after him, “I’ll see you tonight, hmm?”

 

The journey to the Storm Coast was mostly uneventful. Krem had always known that the Chargers were never quite part of the Inquisition, at least not the way the soldiers were, and he had liked it that way. They were a company first and foremost, and though their allegiance was with the Inquisition they operated on their own. It troubled him now though, seeing the Inquisitor’s party just up the road, riding close together. He could see the back of Dorian’s head, but it was too far to make out his voice, though knowing Dorian he had plenty to say. It was strange to be so close and so separate all at once. Krem did head to Dorian’s tent each night after everyone was asleep but the watch, and at least then they could be together in earnest. Krem got good at staying quiet even when Dorian’s body was pressed tightly against his.

It was morning when they neared the rendezvous point, and they set up a quick camp behind a ridge and prepared for the skirmish. Bull was off with the Inquisitor, so Krem led the Chargers’ preparations. A scout assured him that the Venatori presence was fairly minimal, but spread out, so they would need to split up to rout them quickly.

After they were armored, all they waited on was the signal. The Inquisitor and their party had already split off, but the Chargers were holding back until the dreadnaught appeared. Krem gritted his teeth nervously, noting how the others shifted around him. None of them liked that they couldn’t properly see the territory they would be fighting on, and Krem had a feeling of dread that he couldn’t quite shake.

Finally, Krem glimpsed the flashing light from the hill, and he straightened up from where he’d stood half-crouched, waving to the others. It took a few minutes to jog to the base of the second hill, where the small party of Venatori waited with their eyes to the sea. Krem and the Chargers crept towards the crown of the hill, and the Venatori did not notice them until they were most of the way up the side. As soon as he struck the first blow his apprehension vanished, and he found himself swept up in the heady exhilaration of the fight.

There weren’t many Venatori on the hill, but two of them were mages, and it took a little while to break through the lines to reach them. Still, considering how high-stakes Bull had made the operation sound, it was surprisingly easy to push them back. Krem had just felled the second mage when Dalish shouted from behind him. He couldn’t make out what she said, but there was a desperation in her tone that made him whip around. 

He stood absolutely still for a moment, feeling a cold sweat break out on his brow. Spilling over the surrounding hills was a small army of soldiers, Venatori standards flapping in the chill wind. There had to be nearly two hundred, and by the time the Chargers had gotten back in formation the soldiers had filled in the gap between them and the Inquisitor. In the distance, Krem could make out the Inquisitor’s banner still flying.

“We have to hold the hilltop!” Krem yelled, glancing over his shoulder to see the dreadnaught just outside the bay. It would be a few minutes before it arrived at shore, but if the Inquisitor’s hill fell it would never make it. There was no way for them to join forces with the Inquisitor either, not with so many Venatori between the hills.

Krem screamed a battle cry, and the Chargers packed close against each other. The first line of soldiers fell easily, but then they broke formation and scattered, wrapping around the Chargers and forcing them to defend their backs. Krem lost sight of everything outside the roiling mass of armor and blades, and he went from confidently pushing them back to struggling to hold his ground.

A minute passed, and then two. Krem had lost sight of some of the Chargers. There were soldiers all around him, and every time he killed one another two seemed to appear. He finally began to realize that no one was coming to rescue them. It made sense. The alliance with the Qun was incredibly important, and who would sacrifice that to save a handful of mercenaries?

He wished Bull was there. If he was going to die, he would have liked it to happen at his side. It seemed fitting, after everything they’d been through.

Krem wasn’t one to pray, but he sent up a quick prayer to whoever was listening. Let Dorian come out of this alive. Please. Just this one thing.

Just as Krem felt began feeling like his body would collapse any second, a flash of light filled the sky, followed immediately by an explosion. The soldiers started to yell in what sounded like triumph, and Krem’s heart fell. It had all been for nothing. The dreadnaught was gone, and he was going to die on this goddamn hill.

A moment later, a familiar roar echoed over the clatter of steel, and Bull’s axe swept aside two of the soldiers. Krem almost laughed in shock as he saw Bull and the rest of the Inquisitor’s party pushing their way through the Venatori soldiers. Filled with energy again, Krem fought at Bull’s side, and together they carved a path through the soldiers. Krem caught sight of some of the other Chargers through the remaining forces.

There was another, smaller flash off to his right, and he turned to glimpse Dorian pushing back two Venatori mages. He seemed largely unscathed, though he was spattered with blood. Krem grinned.

Then Krem was on the ground, all air driven out of him, and there was a brief moment of confusion before the pain hit him all at once. He screamed. Through a blur of tears he saw the soldier who had struck him fall to a burst of flames.  
Krem tried to push himself up, but the crushed plates of his armor had locked together and he could not move his shoulders. Every breath was painful. He curled into a ball and closed his eyes.

He only realized that he had blacked out when he opened his eyes again and realized most of the Venatori were dead. He could not see Bull anymore, but the Inquisitor’s standard was planted in the ground barely ten feet from where he lay. 

Krem heard the clattering of someone running in armor, then felt hands tugging off his helmet.

“Krem?” Dorian’s voice cracked. “Can you hear me?”

“Course I can,” Krem mumbled. “Don’t you ever stop talking?”

Dorian chuckled desperately. “That hurts.”

“Not as much as that warhammer did.”

Dorian didn’t reply for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he finally whispered, and Krem felt Dorian’s hot tears fall onto his face. “I wanted to come for you, but the Inquisitor—“

“You did what you had to. I’ll be all right.”

“Promise?” Dorian took Krem’s gloved hand in his own.

Krem tried to respond, but everything felt very far away. He thought he heard Bull’s voice somewhere nearby, and the Inquisitor too, but it all faded very quickly into nothingness.


	9. Recovery

Krem blinked dazedly in the bright sunlight. It took him several seconds to adjust his eyes, but he eventually made out the shapes of stone walls, cots, and a massive stained-glass window.

“Shit,” he mumbled. This was the Skyhold infirmary, which meant he had somehow lost all but a few hazy memories of the journey back. How long had it been? He tried to push himself off the pillow, but the pain in his ribs flared back suddenly and he dropped back, trying not to whimper.

There was a commotion at the other end of the long hall, and he tried to turn and see what was happening, but all he could make out were the backs of two people in Chantry robes. They seemed to be blocking the third person involved in the altercation, who was shouting the loudest.

“If you don’t let me in I swear to the Maker I will visit the wrath of my unholy magic on this place!” It took Krem a moment to realize that the voice, which was almost comically menacing, belonged to Dorian. Quieter, Dorian said, “For fuck’s sake. This is ridiculous. Isn’t it good enough that the Inquisitor trusts me? I just want to see him.”

The healers conferred with each other for a second, but then they let him past. He glanced around for a second before seeing Krem, then half-ran over him. When he arrived at Krem’s bedside he fumblingly took Krem’s hand before kissing him on the forehead.

“I can’t believe… Maker, I—” Dorian took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m glad you’re awake.”

“How long has it been?”

“We only got back to Skyhold late last night. They sedated you for the journey because riding in a wagon over bumpy roads would have been torture.” He sat down on a stool next to Krem’s bed, still holding his hand. 

“Do you know what the damage was?”

“To the Inquisition, or to you?”

“Both.”

“I heard through the grapevine that you have a few broken ribs, but are otherwise intact. They’ve been doing their best to keep me away from you. Afraid the terrible apostate will corrupt you, or something like that.”

Krem snorted. “Too late for that.”

Dorian laughed, and for a second the worried lines on his brow smoothed out.

“And the Inquisition? What came of the alliance?”

Dorian shook his head. “There is no alliance. The dreadnaught was lost.”

Krem closed his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? The Inquisitor understood the choice they were making. And Bull would have been devastated to lose the Chargers.”

“Maker—How is Bull doing?”

“Ah.” Dorian frowned. “I think that’s a question Bull himself should answer. It’s not my place.”

“That sounds… bad.”

“He’s alive and unhurt, but suffice it to say the fact that he let the dreadnaught fall did not sit well with the Qun.” He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. The other Chargers are fine too—you’re the one who came out of this injured.”

Krem made a face. “If Bull keeps up with this sacrificing-himself-for-me business I’m going to have to die on a sword for him to make up the debt.”

Dorian sat with his mouth folded shut.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t funny.”

Dorian sighed. “I really thought I’d lost you. When I saw you swallowed up by the Venatori army—then, when I thought you were finally safe, you fell—and I thought—” He started to cry silently, and Krem gritted his teeth and forced himself into a sitting position, placing a hand on Dorian’s shoulder.

For a few moments they sat there in silence, then Dorian leaned in hesitantly and kissed Krem on the lips. After the kiss was over he stayed for a little while with his brow against Krem’s. “I am very, very glad you are alive,” he whispered. Then he pulled away and smiled, awkwardly wiping his tears on his cuff. “I’ve got an idea for a surprise.”

“Does this surprise involve a hot meal?”

“It could. Give me fifteen minutes.” Dorian rose and hurried off. The healers immediately descended upon him, clucking and asking questions and changing the tight bandages wrapped around his ribs. They rubbed some kind of salve on his back, which burned at first but then seemed to dull the pain. Even with the new bandages on it was easier to breathe.

Dorian came back soon after the healers had finally retreated, holding a bowl of soup in one hand and a book in the other. After handing the soup to Krem, he sat down in the stool and put his feet up on the bed, dramatically licking his finger and opening the book. “Oh, by the way, I ran into Bull and let him know you’re awake. He’s going to stop by in an hour or so, I think.”

Krem grinned, then raised an eyebrow in surprise. “That’s not the book we’ve been reading, is it? The color’s wrong, and it’s too big.”

“Very observant. I’m going to read this one to you, seeing as you’re probably not up for a lesson today. As for the other—“ he leaned over and kissed Krem on the cheek ”—that’s for us to read together. I’d hate to spoil the ending.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's over! it's done! i honestly can't believe that i finished this, given that i started with a half-formed idea for the first scene and nothing else. if you've made it this far, thank you for reading, and i hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
